


Tonight You Belong to Me

by JackiIDK912



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Halloween, IDK spooky stuff, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, M/M, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 07:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27169784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackiIDK912/pseuds/JackiIDK912
Summary: His breathing began to even out the more time that passed since he’d been sprinting. The believer’s heart continued to pound like a jackhammer, his anxiety on high alert.There was no way he-nor anyone for that matter-would’ve been able to know this would happen. Everything had seemed so normal just yesterday. Hell, they’d had a fuckin terrific night together.But then, it seemed like a switch flipped and everything changed.He was going over the possibilities in his head as to why when it happened.Or: What is Ryan running from?
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 14
Kudos: 35





	Tonight You Belong to Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Golden4278](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Golden4278/gifts).



> Inspired by this video: https://youtu.be/lGQzQrMQEo8

His lungs were burning from overexertion of running for so long. He had to ignore it, though, in favor of staying alive. 

He wouldn’t be able to keep this up for much longer, having been built for sprinting and not distance. The crunch of the graveling parking lot under his boots made him wince, the pebbles like an air horn projecting his location. 

_You’re almost there,_ he chanted in his mind in a failed attempt to ease his anxieties. It didn’t work, but he had to try. His thundering heartbeat was basically like a beacon, making him so easy to find. 

“Ryan!” the thing called out. It wasn’t that far off. This revelation only made Ryan pump his legs faster. “Are you really trying to play hide n’ seek? You _know_ you’ve never been any good at that.”

It was true. The last Ryan had played that game as a child, he fell out of a tree branch and had to get stitches from landing on a pile of bricks head first. 

With that in mind, he slipped into the opening to the abandoned shopping mall through a gap in the plywood that covered the broken glass doors. 

He’d been to this mall enough times that he was able to know his way around the empty halls. Last time he’d been here, the place was barely hanging on then. It wasn’t a surprise when it eventually shut down. 

Now, as his steps reverberated off the walls, he realized how eerie it all was. Nearly all the shop windows had been smashed, causing his every step to create noise. Some of the mannequins were still posed in the stores, featureless heads watching his every move. Naturally, the structure had no power, which meant none of the lights were on. It was near pitch black except for the murky sunlight reluctantly glowing through the sparse skylights, but it was enough to see. 

It wasn’t like he’d never been in an abandoned building before, in fact he was known for being on abandoned structures. This was astronomically different from those instances. 

Those other times, he’d been with a group of people, his camera crew. He’d also always have a camera on his face with a goal for the night, to find ghosts. Ryan had his coping mechanism for when he’d gotten so scared he couldn’t continue the episode, his best friend. Those other times, he wasn’t running for his life. 

Sprinting on the sparkling tile, Ryan bounded up the stationary escalator with a hiding spot in mind. It was a small store that was farthest away from the escalators in a hidden corner of the floor. Even when the mall was at the height of business, hardly anyone went to this shop. Ryan only knew about it because he’d been dared to run the entire area of the building. 

Unsurprisingly, the former perfume shop windows were intact. This imbued the believer with a sense of hope. If vandals couldn’t find this place, maybe it wouldn’t either. 

Ryan was sat on the floor with his knees pressed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around his legs and closed his eyes, listening out for any sign he’d been found. 

His breathing began to even out the more time that passed since he’d been sprinting. The believer’s heart continued to pound like a jackhammer, his anxiety on high alert. 

There was no way he-nor anyone for that matter-would’ve been able to know this would happen. Everything had seemed so normal just yesterday. Hell, they’d had a fuckin terrific night together. 

But then, it seemed like a switch flipped and everything changed. 

He was going over the possibilities in his head as to why when it happened. 

The speakers began to crackle to life in bouts of static that sounded like laughter. It was fucking laughing at him. 

Ryan’s chest contracted as his mind supplied him with an unpleasant memory of when he was in elementary school. The laughing, the pointing, the exclusion he’d felt… he was singled out so quickly and for what? 

The static decrescendoed into what could be a piano, but it was hard to discern with the degrading quality of the speakers from years of disuse. The piano was layered over by a high register singing voice, that of a little girl’s. The song echoed off the empty walls of the hugs mall, adding to the creepiness of it all. 

_I know you belong to somebody new, but tonight, you belong to me._

Ryan’s blood ran colder than ice. _No…_

_Although we’re apart, you’re part of my heart, and tonight, you belong to me._

The song… it was his and Shane’s song. That-that _thing_ was fucking with him, and it was succeeding. 

It was one of the most cruel things that monster could do. This song is what they would play in every situation, what brought them together. 

The first time they heard it together was at Shane’s grandparent’s 50th anniversary party that he brought Ryan along to. 

The entire trip to Schaumburg was a strange experience. Ryan had felt nervous the entire time for no clear or particular reason. He was just a huge jumbled ball of nerves. 

Shane, picking up on this, placed a large, warm hand on Ryan’s knee, comforting him. 

“It’s just my family, Ry, there’s nothing to be worried about,” he remarked in a very soothing tone. 

But you see, there was _everything_ to be worried about. At the time, while he didn’t know it yet, Ryan was hopelessly devoted to his best friend. The need to make sure that Shane’s family liked and approved of him was insurmountable. 

“I know, but sometimes I can’t help _but_ be nervous,” he retorted, tucking his hand under his chin and pouting. 

The big guy patted Ryan’s leg, letting out a fond hum that matched his smile. “Ever the Boogara.” 

And just like that, Bergara felt much less anxious. Something about Shane’s warm touch and smooth voice was able to find the off switch for his anxiety. It was a power that only few possessed, the others being his parents. 

“Yeah, at least we have emotions,” the younger quipped. He noticed that Shane had yet to take his hand off his leg. 

“Well, you got me there, I guess,” Madej murmured, his usual energy not in his words. 

Ryan noticed the shift in mood the second it happened, seeing the strain in Shane’s small smile. 

The conversation ended and Shane retracted his hand. The whole affair left Ryan feeling perplexed and nervous once again for the future. 

He didn’t have time to dwell on it though because soon enough, the cab stopped in front of Shane's childhood home. 

Very little time was spent there, however, as the party was to start in an hour. But, there was enough time for Ryan to gush over a baby photo of Shane hanging on the wall. 

“Wow, you really weren’t kidding when you said you were an ugly baby,” the believer teased, pointing at the dark frame. 

Shane walked up right behind Ryan, adjusting the cuff of his blazer. “Yeah, I was serious.” 

Ryan leaned in closer to the picture, his eyes pinching together as he inspected the details. “And I see that your head being gigantic isn’t a new development.” 

The skeptic was going to make a remark about how original the joke was, but then Bergara turned to look him in the eyes; that million watt smile that rivaled the sun and enthusiastically sparkling eyes struck _right_ at his heart. He wasn’t able to manifest anything in his mind other than _Damn_.

He tried to go over his sputtering reaction on the ride there, but he couldn’t come up with a logical explanation. Shane's mind kept replaying that look on Ryan’s face, oddly. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen that smile before, mostly when talking about the Lakers or Paddington, so why was this one so special? 

When they arrived at their destination, the party was in full swing. As per request, the hall was decorated like it was the Roaring 20’s once again. The Gatsby-esque style was a kaleidoscope of obsidian black and sunset gold, accentuated by the yellowed string lights lazily dangling from the ceiling. 

A live band blared swing style jazz that was irresistible to dance to. The warm melody from the brass instruments beckoned your body to sway with each measure. Most of the Madej clan (more than likely inebriated) were drawn into the smooth, velvety chords of the lead singer and danced in a large mass of delighted emotion.  
As instructed by the invitation, the majority of Shane’s relatives were dressed in period-typical clothing. For example, Shane’s cousin Daisy was wearing a midriff, drop waist, white dress with silver embroidered flowers, a layer of fringe playfully laying atop her hips. Her short curly brown hair was wrapped in a slim headband sparkling with faux diamonds lining the circumference, a white feather billowing out at the center of the headband. 

Since men’s fashion has barely evolved, many of the males present were wearing differing iterations of a suit, the majority donning a fedora. Shane went in more of the vein of a noir detective, a three piece with trenchcoat and all black fedora complete with a shoulder holster (empty of course). He slicked back his hair and shaved his stubble all for the authenticity. 

Ryan, in Shane’s opinion, was the true star of outfit choice. No one else looked more convincing than he, the navy blue of his vest and pants causing the sunkissed golden hue of his skin to glow. His crisp white button up was rolled to his elbows, showing off the sculpted musculature of his forearms, the veins in his hands and arms mesmerizingly popping. 

The collar of said shirt was distractingly unbuttoned to the third button, displaying even more of his iridescent golden skin. A gold pocket watch chain hung from his navy vest, viewable by the lack of blazer. His strong hands were accented by a few gold rings, selling the whole “bootlegger” vibe he exuded. It was distracting how tightly the fit of his pants clung to every curve of his structured lower half; Ryan was distracting. 

Shocked by that last thought, Shane had to dispel the toxic masculine thoughts by reminding himself _it’s ok to compliment other men._

“I want a drink, want me to grab you one?” Shane offered, still a little taken aback by his thoughts. 

Ryan turned his head towards Shane, the gel in his hair reflecting the string lights. 

“Little early to drink, don’t you think?” the believer checked the gilded watch clasped on his wrist. 

“You haven’t met my family,” the skeptic muttered, recalling past reunions he’d been at. 

Ryan giggled, albeit a little concerned. “Alright then, guess I’ll take a Jack and coke.”

Shane’s eyebrows tried to join his hairline. “Starting off strong, aren’t we?”

“If dealing with you is any indication of how your family will be, I need a good start,” Bergara seamlessly refuted, a sly look to that arch in his brow. 

“Ok,” Shane articulately responded, just above a breath. 

Having to avoid eye contact with every other human in the building so as to not get ensnared in conversation, Shane hurried over to the bar to order the drinks. 

Apropos to the theme, a sign hung above the bar that read: “In compliance with the 18th Amendment, NO intoxicating liquor allowed on the premises.” The attention to detail caused a smile to break out on his face, he was impressed. 

After getting the drinks, Shane fought his way back to the last place he’d left his co-host. It was a hassle as the venue was packed to the gills with family members that had long limbs. 

“What took you so long?” Bergara questioned, accepting his drink from his skeptic. 

“Sorry, Ricky, there was a line,” Shane implied, fixing the hat that was crushing his abnormally large head. 

Ryan paused from taking a drink of his whiskey to face Shane, cocking an eyebrow. He didn’t have to say anything. 

“What? You’re dressed like him,” Madej defended, taking the bait that was dangled in front of him. 

A deep and nearly condescending chuckle purred out of Ryan, taking that sip from his glass. “Whatever you say, Detective Tinsley.”

Before Shane could respond, he was intercepted by a family member. 

Now that it had started, the floodgate was opened to the mingling of relation. Each one was introduced to Ryan, although many of them already knew who he was, having watched Unsolved a few times or so. 

It was strange to see exactly how different Shane acted around his family. Ryan was so used to seeing him with no filter at all, saying whatever he wanted whenever he wanted to. But now, he was acting like he did when they interviewed a guest on Supernatural. For lack of a better term, it wasn’t Shane. 

After mingling for the better part of two hours, Shane’s grandfather, Alexander Madej, called for everyone to take their seats for dinner to be served. The boys sat at a table with Shane’s parents, Scott and his fiance Hazel, and Shane’s cousin Nick and his boyfriend Jay. 

At this point, they were both a little tipsy, the giggly kind. All either of them had to do was glance at each other and they would spiral out into launching fits. It earned them both stern looks from Mr. and Mrs. Madej. 

Dinner consisted of a chicken dish that Ryan couldn’t remember the specifics of. He did, however, recollect the wine it was served with. 

Now, Ryan’s by no means a light weight. He was a frat boy for god’s sake; but the glass never seemed to empty no matter how much he drank. Shane, having a lower tolerance, was gone by the time desert was served. 

Barely able to talk without laughing, Shane asked Ryan to dance with him. (It was actually him just yanking Bergara out of his chair, but the sentiment was the same)

Ryan let himself be pulled out onto the floor, an upbeat rendition of Careless Whisper being belted out by the saxophone. A good number of Madej’s were already adorning the dancefloor, many also drunk. 

They danced (by the loosest definition) together, sometimes having to hold one another up. Their coordination hindered on a good day and totally annihilated in that moment. 

The believer had to catch Shane from completely face-planting by essentially dipping him. He didn’t think much of it until: “You’ve got sexy arms. I like ‘em, nice and strong.” 

If he were sober, Ryan would’ve been so embarrassed that his face would’ve rivaled a stop light. But, as he was inebriated from the wine and atmosphere, he only giggled in response. 

“Alright Madej family, as requested, we’re gonna slow it down here. This is dedicated to Alexander by Annalise,” the singer choursed. The crowd erupted in awws and claps, a few cheers emitted too. 

As promised, the piano played a slower melody that instantly changed the mood to tander and intimate from playful and upbeat. Couples began to latch onto one another, gently swaying with the notes like grass on a summer’s breeze. 

Still in Ryan’s arms, Shane righted himself and looked around. Ryan did too, spotting Scott and Hazel along with Nick and Jay. The way they looked at one another, it was like nothing else in the world mattered to them. 

It was while Ryan was studying the couples that the skeptic slithered his arms around Ryan’s neck. 

_I know, you belong to somebody new, but tonight, you belong to me._

Immediately, the shorter one snapped his head in the direction of his co-host. His face… it was the exact same look he’d just seen on the couple’s. Shane’s eyes were glittering from the twinkling over head and so full of fondness, and his smile, it almost seemed involuntary. 

The more the song played the closer they got. It wasn’t long before Ryan and Shane were completely pressed against each other, Ryan’s head resting on his co-host’s shoulder and Shane nuzzling his face into Ryan’s hair. 

He wasn’t sure when he closed his eyes, but it just felt like the right thing to do. The believer felt so safe and warm, like it was where he truly belonged. This embrace was the epitome of any emotions he’d ever felt towards the skeptic.

Shane would later tell him that the song was his grandparents’ and was why his grandmother had requested it. By either coincidence or divine intervention, this also became the boy’s song. As to why it’s their song, well…

The skeptic, more than taken by the moment, began to sing along with the words in Ryan’s ear. “Although we’re apart, you’re part of my heart, and tonight, you belong to me.” 

He’s not sure why, but the way Shane’ breathed the last part felt so _personal_. Like he was trying to tell Ryan something without telling him anything. 

The believer, as his brain was muddled by the whiskey and wine, simply cracked the widest grin and nestled deeper into the crook of his best friend’s neck. 

“Way down by the stream, how sweet it’ll seem, once more just to dream, in the moonlight,” Madej continued, his warm breath ghosting across the skin of Ryan’s neck. It made his goosebumps rise to attention, the shivers that naturally followed dancing across his golden skin. 

Shane pulled his head away to gaze into the warm chestnut eyes of Ryan Bergara. The twinkling in them wasn’t from the lights, it was the sparkling light of long repressed emotions coming to the surface. 

Noses just a few atoms apart, the electricity emanating off the pair was enough to rival an electrical storm of biblical proportions. Though, if that event were to occur in that moment, neither would have the presence of mind to notice. 

It was then that Ryan, a brave moron to his core, took the plunge that changed the course of his life. His heart was thundering in his chest, his hands suddenly becoming shaky and sweaty. Every voice of reason and pure anxiety _shrieking_ at him in his head that _this was a very bad idea_. 

But, like he almost always did, the believer ignored them in favor of listening to the one impulsive voice (often egged on by Shane), this time being no exception. 

Fire. Seering, scalding, sinful fire. 

That was the only way he could describe it, all he could feel. Each moment brought forth a new intensity that didn’t seem feasible, but proved to do just _that_. The burning heat that washed him from head to toe was so _addicting_.

A burning of a different kind flowered in his lungs. In favor of staying alive, Ryan had to come up for air. Though, even if he didn’t elect to listen to his survival instincts, that would’ve been the ideal time to die. 

Both men’s breathing was labored, attempting to replace the depleted oxygen levels in their blood. 

“What the fuck was that??” 

Instantly, Ryan snapped his head up so fast he could’ve been treated for whiplash. When he looked into the eyes of his best friend he only saw alarm and utter disgust. 

That’s… that’s not right. This wasn’t the way Shane had reacted, it wasn’t. Yet, all he could see was the betrayal and discomfort illustrated across the skeptic’s face. 

“What do you mean?” Bergara yelped, his brows knitting together. 

Shane had broken out of their embrace like it was burning him, putting as much distance between them as he could, which was a considerable amount. He was wiping at his mouth with a hurt expression donning his features. The way he was looking at Ryan… it was like he’d just told Shane that he’d shot his dog twenty times because he wanted to. 

“Shane-” Ryan tried to take a step closer to his best friend, but Shane responded by taking two steps backwards. He was now clutching his hands to his. He looked so goddamn vulnerable that Ryan’s heart was aching at the mere notion of such a thing.

It was rare to see any real emotion portrayed on the skeptic, so to see it to such an extreme degree, and to have Ryan be the cause of such distress was just too much for him to bear. 

“P-please, stay back,” Shane squeaked. His eyes were huge, the fear prominent in them. 

“Shane, what-why are you doing this?” the believer pleaded, desperate to go back to just seconds before, when he was living his favorite memory. 

He blinked a few times, the disbelief quickly shifting his mood. “Why am _I_ doing this??” 

And just like that, it was now Ryan’s turn to feel like a scared toddler. 

“What are _you_ doing, huh?? You took advantage of me, Ryan!” Shane argued, the anger changing his whole demeanor. He was now standing at his full height, not slouching like he normally is known to do. There was a cold fierceness raging in his eyes, his face going pink. It was a terrifying display that made Ryan cower down, feeling suddenly like prey facing down it’s predator. 

“I could barely stand up on my own or form a sentence without slurring it together but you thought it was the ideal time to make out with me, huh?” Madej sneered coldly. 

Ryan felt like he had no control over his own mind. Yes, he was prone to bad anxiety, but never anything like this. He was trapped under the rage of his lover, feeling helpless to avoid or stop this scenario playing in his head. 

A cold chuckle fell out of his mouth. “Wow, terrible when put into perspective, isn’t it? And you can’t claim that you were also drunk, because we both know you hold your liquor way better than I can.” 

“Correct me if I’m wrong here, but you got me totally wasted to the point that I was strutting around like a newborn deer on a frozen lake, kissed me to where I had no chance to say no, then shoved us into a janitor’s closet and had your way with me even though I never clearly said ‘yes’ to you.” 

“That’s not true!” Bergara objected, feeling dizzy very quickly. 

“Which part? Where my BAC was at 0.11? Or how you choked down my cock without my full consent?” Shane refuted instantly, his hands clasped behind his back and a condescending air to him. 

Ryan was sputtering for a response, but was coming up empty handed. He began to question the whole affair now, looking at it through a different lens. Ryan would _never_ have sex with anyone without clear consent, but alcohol was known to change and bring out the worst in people. 

“No. No, I wouldn’t-”

“Ah, but you did,” he cut the believer off, now within feet of him. Ryan hadn’t noticed how quickly Shane approached him; he was so busy questioning his morals. 

“Who’s the monster now?” he whispered directly into Ryan’s ear. 

The believer gasped, tears forming on his waterline. It was all clear to him now. 

“You’re not Shane.” 

“And we have a winner, folks!” the thing announced, stretching out its arms while tilting its head to the side, a lopsided grin manifested on thin lips. 

“But you don’t know where I am! You haven’t found me yet,” the believer reasoned, recalling the location he was actually in; hiding in front of a forgotten storefront. “This is all in my-you’re in my fucking head!” 

A cruel laugh chorused from its throat. “He can be taught! And unfortunately, this is where the fun is interrupted.” 

Ryan felt a tsunami of relief crash over him, all his muscles going suddenly lax. 

“Au revoir, lover,” the thing forecasted, going so far as to tip its hat to Ryan. 

It began to dissipate in a swirling mist as Bergara slowly came back into his own skin, its smirk haunting and wrong on so many levels. It was using Shane like a puppet, and seeing that cruel grin on his lips enraged him and broke his heart. 

It wasn’t until Ryan had fully came to that he realized the intention of that thing’s closing statement.

In college, he’d taken a semester of French as he was required to take at least one language class. Adieu was what you said when intending to not see the person for a long period of time. Au revoir was the goodbye you would say to somebody you planned on meeting again very soon, almost instantly. 

_Oh my god,_ Ryan chanted in his mind, his stomach dropping to his feet and his blood freezing in his body. He was doomed, this was the time to die. 

_My honey, I know with the dawn that you will be gone, but tonight, you belong to me._

It was there, sitting amongst the dust mites and shattered glass that Ryan Steven Bergara knew this was his punishment for flirting with the supernatural. He’d tempted the hand of fate for far too long, and this was his penance for not treating it with the respect it so deserved. 

What was his sentence, you ask? Why, it was merely suffering through the torture of having the love of his life be inhabited by the spawn of the king of Hell himself. Only able to stand idly by as Shane Alexander Madej was possessed by the thing he feared most in this world, a demon. 

_Way down, way down along the stream, how very, very sweet it will seem, once more just to dream in the silvery moonlight._

He let the thought run over and over again in his mind, and each time, he felt a part of himself fall closer and closer into despair. He wanted nothing more to get his Shane back and just forget that this ever happened, to never acknowledge that this event was real, but alas, that would not come to fruition. 

It wasn’t long until he could feel the distinct burning in the back of his throat and eyes, a fire of longing and pain burning its way out of his soul and into physical being. 

He was helpless, feeling so alone on that dirty tile floor of the abandoned mall. There was no one that would be able to help him, the only person that could being the cause of his distress. 

He felt completely useless, unable to help the one man that he dedicated his time the most to. All that time, all those promises, nothing more than empty words on the backdrop of nutritionless supplement and fleeting moments. 

The scene in front of the believer slowly began to merge together in a blend of blurring colors and light, his breathing rattling in his ribs like a nearly empty piggy bank. Shortly after, Ryan could feel the anxiety drip down from his eyes and connect on his chin, a hot trail left behind in their wake. 

When was the last time he cried? Was it while watching a movie? Upon receiving bad news? Good news, perhaps? 

It wasn’t any of those, he recalled then. 

It was about two months ago while driving back from work. He’d had the very unpleasant misfortune of having witnessed a cat being run over by a careless and reckless driver. Thankfully for the poor animal, it was instantaneous and it didn’t suffer at all, but Ryan couldn’t help but imagine his own cat in that situation. 

As soon as he’d come through the door, Ryan immediately secured that Obi was safely perched on his favorite window. He’d ignored the greeting Shane had thrown towards him upon entering which caused an ensuing conversation to what he had to bear witness to not forty-five minutes ago. 

The skeptic held him close as his trauma slowly eased out of him with each tear he shed and each second that passed while in the arms of his lover. 

But now, there was no Shane to hold him, to tell him it was alright, to assure him that everything was going to pass. The only one there accompanying him was the endless void of loneliness he nursed in his soul. 

_My honey, I know with the dawn that you will be gone, but tonight, you belong to me._

The mounting sense of hopelessness he harboured in his soul was the cause of him finally relinquishing to the pure sense of grief he carried for the loss of his lover. There was no more holding it in, Ryan curled in on himself and simply cried. He knew there was no hope of getting Shane back, the demon probably killed Shane as his first order of business when it possessed him. 

As he sobbed into his arms, Ryan could only think of Shane’s goofy yet brilliant smile that dazzled him to no end. It was the catalyst to his plummet for Shane, the starting point that was able to make him blush like a schoolgirl when used right. 

And now, he’d never witness it again. 

Ryan vaguely registered that the speakers were beginning to crackle again and that the song was skipping like a scratched cd, but that was the furthest thing from his mind in that moment. 

The song caught on the words _just me_ , repeating over and over, to the point where it felt like the little girl was trying to tell him something. 

That wasn’t even how the song ended. The first and last words of the line had been sewn together, meshed in an unceremonious mess of musical offense. The real closing line of the song was-

“Just to little old me.” 

_I’m dead._

Ryan didn’t have to look up from his position to know what was standing in front of him, but he did anyway. 

He was greeted with the achingly familiar face of Shane Alexander Madej, the hooked nose that he loved to tap lovingly, the soft thin lips that he’d shared so many intimate moments with, the dusting of stubble that would scratch against his honeyed skin with every gentle touch of his hand, and the gentle upward tilt of his smile that many a times melted his very core. But it wasn’t him. 

The eyes, they were wrong. Instead of the gentle brown Ryan remembered, they projected the black void that was its soul framed by the kind drooping eye shape Shane had. It was the most jarring thing about this whole endeavor, that it wasn’t just a bit. 

“Oh, come now, darling. You know I hate to see you cry,” the imposter purred in a calming temperament. 

“Stop pretending to be him! I know what you are!” the believer screamed, his fists slamming into the solid tile beneath him. 

It responded with a low chuckle that was so close to the real thing that it only wedged the dagger of loss deeper into Ryan. 

In a fluid and instantaneous motion, the demon grabbed Bergara by his hand and yanked him up off the floor. It was so fast that Ryan had no way of resisting it, feeling useless again. 

The thing wound its fingers with the human’s, wrapping the long arm it possessed around his waist, the grasp on his body just tight enough that there was no hope in trying to get out of it. It wasn’t that Ryan didn’t try, but even as he resisted the touch, there was a calming voice in the back of his mind that encouraged him to let this happen, allow himself to be guided.

He found himself trapped in a waltz, the ballroom nothing short of a dimly lit condemned building with debris scattered across the dancefloor. Each step they took in tempo with the looping song caused a crunch of broken windows under their feet. 

They were so close together, far closer than Ryan ever wanted to be, that it created a false sense of intimacy, a manufactured flirtation through the product of residual love and familiar faces. 

There was just enough light that Ryan could see the smile on its lips that seemed involuntary, fond, if you didn’t look too close, but the believer did. It was slightly off, too hard to be genuine.

“What’s the matter, honey? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” the monster noted, guiding the two of them into a lazy twirl. 

“How many times do I have to repeat that you’re possessing the man I love to get it into that hellish brain of yours?” the believer bit, the fear he possessed dissolving into anger. 

It hummed in response, a low baritone that Ryan could feel the vibration of in his own chest. “It would seem to look that way, wouldn’t it?”

“Nothing else to look at, bud, it’s the truth,” he responded, still unable to pull away from the embrace. 

“Perhaps it is,” the demon ominous responded. There was a quirk to his eyebrow coupled with a smirk that both unsettled and delighted the part of him confused by the fact that this wasn’t the real Shane holding him. 

The fact of the matter was that while he knew that Shane was gone, it still felt like him. It was in the way it touched the skin of the human’s hand. It was firm, yes, but only slightly so. When Shane touched his lover, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that he’d use a little force now and then. 

His heart lurched again. 

“Why are you doing this? Why aren’t you trying to kill me?” 

This made the demon raise its borrowed eyebrows minutely in surprise. 

“Now why did we jump straight to murder?” the fake man refuted, the arm on Ryan’s waist loosening. 

“It’s what demons do, they drag people to hell with them,” the human informed, a creeping sense of confusion stemming in his mind. 

“Is it, now? Can’t they simply want to escape hell and start a life for themselves?” 

The way he posited it made Ryan nearly believe him for a split second. 

“Cut to the chase already, goddamnit. It’s hard enough talking to you while wearing Shane like a cheap suit,” the believer lamented, wanting nothing more than to get out of this godforsaken mall. 

“I don’t intend to kill you, honey,” it solemnly swore. 

“Then let me go! Please! I have no other use to you,” he pleaded, tightening the hold he had around its neck. 

“Out of the question, darling,” 

Ryan wanted to sob again. 

“Why not?” It came out far weaker than Bergara wanted it to. 

The demon halted their swaying, pulling its head back just enough so that it could study Ryan’s eyes. 

“Oh, my sweet ignorant dearest,” it sang, the pity ringing throughout the words. 

Ryan’s brown knit together, feeling the inferiority fester inside his chest. 

“I thought it was blatantly obvious. I’ve been hinting at it for some time now,” the demon alluded. 

This left the human in a swirling fog of deep confusion, what could it mean by that? 

The murky haze of his thoughts was broken by the bright voice of the little girl once again. 

_But tonight, you belong to me._

Bergara’s heart sank to the floor like it was made of lead. His blood suddenly seemed to be composed of ice as the dread of realization plunged him into harsh clarity. 

The absolute horror he felt manifested on his face. 

Ironically, he looked to the demon for reassurance that it wasn’t the truth. Maybe it was the fact that it was Shane’s face that he did this, but in his clear desperation, nothing made sense. 

Instead of the denial the human so craved to hear from the thing, he was only met with an affirmation. 

“Just to little old me.”

**Author's Note:**

> What fun this was to write! Thank you for reading! Hope I got ya at least a little spooked. What was the creepiest part for you? Let me know in the comments, if you want


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